At breakfast I tried the Staffordshire oatcakes, which I discovered were a kind of savoury pancake. Folded inside were the black pudding and sausages I ordered, and it was served with a garnish of healthy green rocket. All very classy! I left Abbots Bromley by a path between hedges and houses, although attractive it was the wrong one! Instead of retracing my steps I followed a road back to the correct route. That zig zagged over fields to a reservoir, or almost to the reservoir, the paths stayed below the dam on a circuitous route.
I was now in an area where red brick was the dominant building material of houses, farms and bridges. A contrast to the blackened gritstone buildings I had encountered further north. Two buzzards flew high above me. After more fields I reached the village of Colton, which sounded a bit like a mineral to me. I exchanged a few words on the weather with an elderly man cleaning leaves and other remains from the side of the drive to the village hall. We agreed it was sunny but he warned me of showers between 12 and 1 pm. More fields and I reached the Trent and Mersey Canal. There I left the Staffordshire Way and the E2 and walked rapidly south-east to the station where I just managed to catch the 11:50 train, the slow service to Birmingham.
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